The Highlander Series (97 page)

Keeley had been her only friend. The only other girl who’d understood Rionna’s odd tendencies. Keeley had encouraged Rionna’s practice with a bow. She’d applauded every time Rionna had struck the center of the target. She’d exclaimed over Rionna’s skill with a knife, swearing that Rionna could hold off an entire army just by wielding a dagger.

Rionna had tried to teach Keeley those skills, warning that lasses needed to know how to protect themselves. But Keeley had laughed and said she was hopeless in such matters and that she would one day have her prince to protect her anyway.

Well, Keeley had gotten the prince, and Rionna had gotten the skills to protect herself. She wasn’t sure who had come out ahead in the bargain.

She found a large bolder and eased down onto the cold surface. Her arse would freeze if she stayed long, but she wasn’t quite ready for the confrontation that must be forced with her husband.

Caelen walked through the kitchens, his expression grim. Rionna shouldn’t be below stairs yet. Hell, she shouldn’t even be out of bed. He intended to keep her there at least another fortnight.

But what worried him more than her being out of bed was her state of mind. The attack had deeply affected her. She’d been quiet, reserved, timid even. And Rionna was not a timid lass. He feared that the attack had irrevocably changed her or damaged her in some way. And he was helpless to change it.

He stopped at the doorway leading outside, after the women in the kitchens reported that she’d not paused on her way out. As he stepped into the snow, he looked up to see her sitting in the distance, her back to him as she stared up at the mountains.

The knot he suffered so frequently since his return from the hunt clutched his throat as he watched her hair blow this way and that in the breeze.

She seemed so slight. Fragile. It was a word he kept coming back to over and over, but it aptly described her appearance.

She looked alone and vulnerable, as if she had no one in the world to protect her. No one
had
protected her when she’d needed it the most. It was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life.

“Laird, do not be angry. What she wears is a comfort to her. She needs that right now.”

Caelen turned in surprise at Sarah’s words. The woman stood behind him, watching Rionna with worried eyes.

“Think you I give a damn what she wears? I’m more concerned with her well-being.”

Sarah nodded approvingly and Caelen gestured her away.

He stepped softly through the snow, not wanting to frighten or disturb Rionna. He thought she resembled a doe, poised to run at the slightest sound or provocation. But as he drew closer, he could see the vacant, distant look in her eyes as she stared away from the keep.

Had the attack damaged her permanently? Would she never be right again? It was early to worry over such possibilities, but he couldn’t help but wonder at how deep the scars would run.

“Rionna,” he called softly.

He heard her quick intake of breath as if he had indeed startled her. She whirled around, her eyes a little wild until her gaze settled on him and then she quieted.

She went so still and continued to stare at him in a way that unsettled him. It was eerie. She studied him as
if she were about to announce judgment on him and find him lacking. Perhaps ’twas his own guilt speaking volumes, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was angry. Very, very angry.

“ ’Tis cold. You should be indoors where it’s warm.”

He slid a hand over her shoulder and squeezed, trying to bring her comfort.

To his surprise she laughed. ’Twas not a joyous sound that bubbled from her throat. It was harsh and hoarse. It sounded pained.

“You probably think I’m daft,” she said.

“Nay,” he said gently. “Not daft.”

“You also probably think I’m a scared rabbit now, afraid to leave my chamber, afraid to venture outside for fear of being attacked again.”

“Nay, lass. I think what you need is time to heal. Your courage will come.”

She turned then and pinned those glowing eyes upon him until he felt unsettled by the directness of her gaze.

“I’m not afraid, Laird. ’Tis the truth I’m furious.”

Anger was an appropriate response under the circumstances, and she did look furious. Sparks fair shot from her eyes and her entire body trembled. For the first time he relaxed, relief sudden and fierce. He knew how to respond to an angry Rionna. But the beaten, worn-down, fragile woman who’d occupied her body for the last week baffled and confused him.

“ ’Tis good you’re angry,” he offered sagely.

She shot to her feet and spun around, glaring at him. Her fists were formed into tight balls at her sides, and she looked like she wanted to take a swing at him.

“Even if ’tis
you
I’m furious with?”

Now
that
he wasn’t prepared for. He frowned, knowing that he had to tread lightly here. The lass wasn’t right yet. Her emotions were all over the place, and he didn’t want to upset her further.

“ ’Tis sorry I am that I wasn’t here to protect you, Rionna. ’Tis something I’ll regret my life through. I should have better seen to your protection. ’Tis not a mistake I’ll make again.”

A garbled sound of rage roared from her throat. She looked as though she wanted to clench her fingers around her hair and pull.

“Nay, you shouldn’t have protected me better, husband. What you should have done was allowed me to protect myself!”

“You’re not making sense, lass. Calm down. Let’s go inside. You should be above stairs in your chamber.”

“Do you know what had just happened before those men attacked me?” she asked, ignoring his suggestion to return indoors. “I’ll tell you what happened. My sword had just been taken by Hugh because he said he didn’t want me to be harmed and ’twas not a womanly thing to be wielding a sword. He warned the other men that any who engaged me in swordplay would answer to him.”

She advanced on Caelen and poked a finger into his chest. “If I had my sword, those men would have never gotten close to me. They wouldn’t have shoved me to the snow. They wouldn’t have touched me. They wouldn’t have hit me.”

Ah, but the lass had worked herself into a fit of rage that was impressive to behold. It shamed him that he fair quivered with lust as she bore down on him aggressively as a warrior about to deliver a death blow.

’Twas all he could do not to bear her into the snow and divest her of her tunic and those hated trews.

“If you wanted a meek lady of the manor with all the social niceties and the proper grooming and breeding to be a perfect hostess and compliment to you, then you should have thought before you stepped forward to
marry in your brother’s stead. He
knew
what he was getting.”

She planted her hands on her hips and stepped forward again until her chest was pressed against his midsection.

“I am none of those things. I have no desire to be those things. I had set my mind to relent and to apply myself to be the perfect wife, and then the men came across the brook and overpowered me as easily as they would a child. What good am I to you or to my clan if I cannot even defend myself? How am I supposed to protect my kin? The children? The other women of the keep? Will I stand over the graves of others and murmur that I was a good wife and a gracious lady? Will that be of comfort to their families? Will they forgive that I stood by and allowed their loved one to die because my husband wanted a wife who could smile prettily and curtsy without getting her feet tangled?”

Caelen battled the smile that threatened. He bit at his bottom lip and valiantly tried to keep his amusement at bay, for if he laughed now, she might well spit him on her dagger.

’Twas the truth he should be angry at her blatant show of disrespect. He should even now be reprimanding her. But ’twas the first sign of life he’d seen in the week since her attack, and God’s truth, she was glorious in her rage.

“Think you this is funny?” she demanded.

She shoved at him with all her might, surprising him with her sudden move. He went down in the snow, landing with a thud. He glared up at her as he dusted the snow from the tops of his legs.

She stood over him now, holding him captive with her fiery gaze. Then her expression became pained, and the shadows returned to her eyes.

“Let me be who I am, Caelen. I would not ask you to
change who you are. I can help you if you’d let me. Don’t relegate me to the shadows, pulling me out only when ’tis convenient for you. Maybe ’tis the way of things in the world, but it doesn’t have to be that way for us.”

Caelen sighed as her impassioned plea made a direct hit to a region of his heart he’d long thought dead. “ ’Tis so important to you to dress as a man and wield a sword?”

She frowned and shook her head. “ ’Tis not the manner of dress that ’tis important. If you can show me how to successfully wield a sword in a woman’s gown, I’ll not gainsay you if you tell me not to wear this manner of dress again.”

“You can’t go about swinging a sword in a gown,” Caelen muttered. “You’d trip over the hem.”

For the first time she smiled, her eyes lighting up with more life than he’d seen in quite some time. “Then I have your permission to wear these garments?”

He sighed in disgust. “When have you ever sought my permission for anything, lass?”

“I can be accommodating,” she defended.

He rolled his eyes. “When it suits your purposes, aye.” Then he narrowed his gaze to stare intently at her. “There are conditions, Rionna. Henceforth, my commander will accompany you everywhere. And I mean everywhere. You’ll go nowhere unescorted. I’ll not have happen again what happened in my absence. If I have need of Gannon to accompany me, then Hugh will take over as your escort.”

She nodded her acceptance.

“Second, you’ll train with me and only with me. You are to spar with no other man. If you want to learn, you’ll be trained by the best, and I won’t be easy on you because you’re my wife.”

She grinned cheekily. “I would expect no less, husband.”

“You’ll not take to binding your breasts.”

At that she raised an eyebrow and looked suspiciously at him.

He grinned lazily up at her. “ ’Tis not just for my pleasure. ’Tis nonsense. I may let you dress as a man, but you’ll not try to look like one.”

“Anything else, husband?” she asked as she tapped her foot in the snow.

“Aye, help me up.”

With a roll of her eyes, she reached down to give him her hand. The lass would never learn. He grasped her wrist and with a quick yank, tossed her into the snow beside him.

She rose up, snow covering her face, blinking at him as if she had no idea why he’d done such. He merely smiled back. “Revenge, lass. Revenge.”

With a disgusted look she launched herself at him, rolling them both into the snow. He gave a laugh and then came astride her. With a free hand, he balled some of the snow and held it menacingly over his shoulder.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said.

He let fly and laughed again as she blinked away the snow from her face. It slid over her cheeks, revealing her look of shock. Then her eyes flashed with the light of battle.

Worried that her mistress and the laird had been out in the cold for so long, Sarah hurried to the doorway. When she opened the door, she was shocked to see the laird atop Rionna in the snow.

How could he have so little care when she was so fragile from her attack? The man had gone mad. It was on the tip of her tongue to issue a sharp reprimand to her laird when she heard Rionna’s laughter ring out through the cold air.

Rionna rolled atop the laird and began stuffing snow in his face. The laird fought back and snow flew fast and furious.

A wide smile formed on Sarah’s face and she quietly retreated back indoors, closing the door behind her to give them privacy.

For the first time since the attack, Rionna came down to the hall for the evening meal. She could feel the stares of the men and women alike and it was all she could do not to cover the bruises and hie herself back up to her chamber.

But she’d spent enough time hiding. She wouldn’t do so any longer.

Caelen looked up in surprise and then stood as she neared the table. The other warriors did the same and then Caelen motioned for Simon to vacate the seat so that Rionna could sit next to Caelen.

“I would have made sure you had your meal in our chamber,” Caelen said in a low voice when he retook his seat.

She smiled. “ ’Tis sweet of you to attend me so, but ’tis time I came out of hiding. The bruises make me look hideous, but ’tis nothing wrong with the rest of me.”

He tipped her chin upward and turned her face this way and that in the light, a pensive expression on his face. He didn’t offer false compliments or tell her she really didn’t look hideous. Strangely she found that comforting.

“The bruising is fading. In a few days’ time, ’twill be completely gone.”

His fingers rubbed over the faint fingerprints at her neck, and his nostrils flared before he pulled his hand away and resumed eating his meal.

At the meal’s end, Rionna stood to excuse herself. The meal had been quiet, as if the men feared upsetting her in some way. It would take time to convince them she wasn’t going to fall apart at the least provocation. ’Twas her fault they’d gained that impression with the way she’d acted, but how could she explain in words how helpless and angry she’d felt at the hands of her attackers?